I love the ever open doorOne pardons much for such a trait, and I have lost half my dislike to the wearisomely frequent priestly dress, since I have seen it worn by a colored man who mingled freely with those about him, and was not stared at as a monster when he entered the frowning portal of the Propaganda College at Rome. Italy, however, is truly the land where “every prospect pleases, and only man is vile.” Here one seems really to stand on the matchless shores of that sea where have passed some of the most interesting events in the history of our race. All Europe is, indeed, the treasure-house of rich memories, with every city a shrine. Mayence, the mother of printing and free trade; Amalfi, with her Pandects, the fountain of law, her compass of commerce, her Masaniello of popular freedom; Naples,
That welcomes to the house of God;
I love the wide-spread marble floor,
By every foot in freedom trod.
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